Stupidly Perfect
by atonalremix
Summary: Giving a lost high school student directions shouldn't have been this complicated. Bonnie expected to just help Scott McCall on his merry way, but when he accidentally ropes her into his crazy supernatural world, she realizes she might've found the perfect guy after all.


**Author's Notes: **Originally written for the Bonnie Bennett Holiday Ship Fest on Tumblr! I'm not entirely sure where in the timeline this would fit for either show: I'd like to think it takes place between episodes 9 & 10 in Season 5 (to explain where the heck Bonnie was during that time) in TVD, while it could be anywhere after season 3A for Teen Wolf. I hope you enjoy this, everyone!

Lost tourists were one of the best parts of Bonnie's daily walk across campus. Even now, as an actual student, she loved the joy of helping someone find his (or her) path. Grams had always helped others, provided that she wasn't a woman on a mission, so Bonnie felt that she should continue her family's legacy. Plus, it made her feel better about all the dead people she kept seeing. This tourist didn't quite look so dead: for starters, he wasn't bleeding all over the place. Or old. Secondly, he was intently staring at a campus map, tracing his fingers across street lines and attempting to memorize the route before bravely venturing out towards another building.

Bonnie quietly wandered towards him, waiting until he had found a lull in his route, before asking, "Hey, can I help you with something?"

The kid jumped, stepping back before he gave her a nervous smile. He looked about her age, though his furrowed brows and wandering eyes put him down as a high school senior. No Whitmore student would've come across this lost, except maybe first-semester freshmen.

"Actually, yeah." He said after a moment, his gaze finally settling on her face. "Could you direct me to the student union?"

She nodded. "Sure! First time here?"

"That obvious?" He joked, stuffing a hand in his pocket. "Yeah, a couple of Virginia schools're trying to recruit me for lacrosse, so I've decided to come over here and visit them first before committing."

Whoa. Recruited for Whitmore's _lacrosse_ team? This kid must have some serious game. Bonnie gave him a serious once-over, trying to ascertain any tell-tale signs that he was a collegiate athlete. Honestly, she got nothing. He had a charming smile, and he was pretty sweet, but he lacked the "frat bro" qualities that accompanied most of the athletes she'd met so far.

"Impressive," she said after a moment, raising both eyebrows. "What other school? UVA?"

"That's the one!" Kid must have some serious game. Before she could ask him anything else, though, he continued, "I didn't think I'd leave my state for college, though. I mean, the UC system's got some pretty sweet schools, and I'd be completely okay with going somewhere like UC San Diego if it meant I got a full ride." Then he glanced over at her, with those stupidly cute, huge, brown eyes of his, and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, I..."

"No, no, it's okay! I didn't mind."

His honesty - and slight rambling - was almost refreshing. In a way, he almost reminded her of Jeremy, and not just because they were in the same grade. Bonnie tried to dismiss his worry with a wave. The kid, however, clearly wasn't buying it, as he easily kept pace with her as they broke through a crowd of fraternity members.

"Um, so what do you plan on studying next year?"

The poor kid almost looked like a deer in headlights. "I... uh... I haven't given it that much thought. Probably not Economics."

"At least you're narrowing it down?"

He laughed softly at that. "Yeah. That's a good way to look at it. What about you? Picked out a major already?'

"Not solidly, since I'm a freshman, but I've been thinking about anthropology." Thinking being the key word. Bonnie had flipped through her textbooks, only to be appalled at the lens they were observing. Anthropology was supposed to be neutral, to focus on studying humans through a clear perspective, but the perspective was the same dominant one that was always there. Bonnie involuntarily grimaced. "Maybe. I'm not so sure myself."

Leaning in conspiratorially, her new companion whispered, "It's okay. I hear that's what the first two years of college are all about." Cute _and_ funny. Bonnie could get behind this conversation - if you know, she didn't already have a kickass boyfriend. Jeremy continued to rock her world in ways she could hardly imagine. Problem was, he was still in high school (like Scott) and focused on applying to college. Bonnie just couldn't feasibly come in-between him and his future, especially since he needed to work on his portfolio if he wanted to apply for any art-related major.

She couldn't hide her laughter. "You heard correctly, Mr..."

"Scott. Scott McCall." He gave her a playful salute. "Maybe I'll see you around campus next year."

"Maybe." She smiled back at him. "I'm Bonnie Bennett."

Before she'd realized it, she'd led him straight into the main center of the student union. She pressed her lips together, staring up at him (man, he really was taller than her). "You good here? Or can I help you out with anything else?"

Scott paused, glancing around the room - presumably for a familiar face. Right on cue, his pocket rang. He pulled out his phone, involuntarily grimacing at the message he received. "Yeah, I think I'm okay. Right now, I've gotta run... so maybe I'll see you later."

The second he escaped her line of sight, something inhuman - almost like a banshee - screamed so loudly that the entire building shook.

The next thing Bonnie knew, she was in Scott's arms. She groaned, clutching his chest a lot more tightly than she anticipated. "Ugh, what... what was that..."

"Someone just died," an unfamiliar female voice cut in.

Scott shot Bonnie an apologetic smile as he gently set her down on the nearest chair. Once she was situated, Bonnie saw the girl standing next to Scott. Despite her short stature, she had enough confidence for the entire population of Whitmore College (and then some). Flipping her vibrantly red hair across her shoulders, the white girl then shot Bonnie a slightly apologetic smile. "Sorry, but _Prince Charming_ over here saw you faint and thought it'd be best if you stayed with us for a little bit."

"Lydia..." Scott groaned. "Just because you're footing the bill on this doesn't mean that you-"

She shut him up with one well-timed glare. Turning on her heels, Lydia then called, "I'm gonna check on my other friend. We'll see you guys in five minutes."

Bonnie had no idea what just happened. Was this how the rest of their high school felt every time something crazy and supernatural happened? Because if it was, she had a lot more heartfelt apologies to write than she thought. "Um..."

"Okay, so I don't know much," Scott quickly said, holding up a finger to prevent her from asking anything, "But what I _do_ know is that someone opened up one of the maintenance cabinets and found a student drained completely of blood. It was almost as if they were from some freaky vampire novel."

The student must've been completely human. Bonnie instinctively rubbed her stomach - if that person had been supernatural, she would've felt every single moment of them passing onto the Other Side. Nothing had happened. She'd passed out from the sheer strength of that inhuman screech. It couldn't have been a vampire's cry - she'd heard Damon, Stefan, and just about a dozen of them shriek in pain, and they were pretty darn human - nor could it have come from a werewolf.

"What... what about that scream, though?"

Scott nervously tugged on stray black hairs. "I... I have no idea. I guess someone was trying out for opera?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "No opera singer like that lives around here. Not if they want a career." Whitmore was known for a lot of things. Opera singing wasn't exactly one of them.

"Okay, maybe not an opera singer. I'm pretty sure they were human." Scott glanced back in the direction Lydia had left, as if to silently say, 'End of discussion.' Bonnie knew when not to press a point. If she wanted to solve The Mystery of the Banshee Wail, she'd have to play Nancy Drew by herself.

So Bonnie stood on her two feet, and almost fell flat on her backside. Almost, because Scott just gracefully caught her in his arms again.

He laughed softly, "Maybe I should just hold onto you for a while."

"Maybe," she teased lightly back.

Just when she was getting all comfortable, Lydia and another boy - a tall, gangly white kid who dressed almost exactly like Scott - walked back towards them. The boy's eyes widened, before he burst into a huge grin.

"Man, and here I thought you'd be mooning over Allison for like, _forever_."

In perfect unison, both Scott and Bonnie yelled, "It's not like that!"

Wait.

"Allison?" Bonnie blinked back surprise, motioning for Scott to set her back down. (Which he did, like a proper gentleman). "Is she your girlfriend?"

"Ex-girlfriend," Lydia corrected sympathetically. "Scott hasn't exactly had an easy time of getting over her, so of course, _Stiles_ over here gets the wrong impression." If Lydia's death glare were a superpower, she could've ruled the whole world if she wanted to. When she coughed, Stiles' goofy demeanor was replaced by an entire shift in body language: he straightened his posture, wiped that goofy grin off his face, and folded his arms threateningly.

"Anyways," Stiles said, as if he hadn't said a word, "You go here, right, Bonnie? Your grandmother wouldn't happen to be Sheila Bennett, would it...?"

Scott glared fiercely at his best friend (a rarity for him, probably). "STILES!"

"What, Scott?"

"Bonnie fainted again."

The second time around, Bonnie wasn't even surprised to find herself in her grandmother's old office.

"Scott brought you here," Stiles said helpfully, looking up from a thick anthropology guide. "We thought it'd be quicker than waiting for you to wake up again."

Where were these kids' chaperones? Didn't they have someone making sure where they were at all times? Bonnie's dad wasn't exactly the best, but she knew her - and the rest of Mystic Falls - had to be some kind of weird exception, considering how much American parents loved to keep a tight leash on their children.

Scott's phone rang again. He checked his phone, then quickly texted whoever had sent him a message back. "Mom just asked if we wanted Chinese. We've got about an hour before she, your dad, and Lydia's parents notice."

Bonnie blinked. "Why do you say an hour?"

Lydia fondly shook her head at Bonnie, lightly patting her shoulder. "Because knowing my parents, Scott's mom, and Stiles's dad, they'll take forever to agree on a place. Scott's mom's probably just trying to win his approval in this stupid argument of theirs - and the longer they argue, the more we can research about this place."

"How do you know about my grandmother, anyways?"

Now Scott just looked sheepish. "I was telling my boss about you, and how you were making this visit really cool, when he told me about Sheila Bennett. She's known for the supernatural, especially concerning anthropology."

So Stiles had to ask, "Are you, by chance, related to the Deatons?"

Bonnie blinked back surprise. "Um... not that I know of?" The name certainly hadn't rung a bell, and last she heard, she wasn't related to anyone with the last name. "Grams might've had a friend with that name. I don't exactly know all of them." Especially with how they kept popping out of the woodwork. At the rate they were appearing, Grams's social calender was busier than Elena Gilbert's had ever been - even before her parents died.

Scott frowned, furrowing his eyebrows. "See? I TOLD you not all black people are related! Just like not all of us _Latinos_ are related."

"Jeez, Scott, I knew that," Stiles piped up, though judging from how he shiftily stepped back from Lydia, Bonnie wasn't buying it.

She folded her arms at him. "Uh-huh."

Scott shot her a mischievous grin. "Sorry, they can be pretty white sometimes. But I guess you'd know that, huh? Going here and all?"

"It's not that bad." She'd made plans to join the African Student Association, and maybe take a peek at the various other intercultural clubs on campus, but none of them had come to fruition yet. Mostly because her life had just been that hectic and insane. Kind of like today. How had she gotten kidnapped by three high school students again? "Better than where I grew up, I'd say."

Even Stiles and Lydia winced sympathetically at her.

"Sorry, Bon." Stiles closed his book, moving to a new one and thumbing through its table of contents. "We were just wondering, since the Deatons are kind of our experts on the supernatural, and your grandma taught a class on Occult Arts."

Bonnie giggled. "It's okay. Grams had a lot of connections through that class." Though if they wanted knowledge on the supernatural, it had to be because of that dead student they found in the janitor's closet. "You think something not-human killed that student?"

"Not think, _know_." Stiles grimaced. "I saw that kid. Took pictures of him before I went and grabbed another janitor. There was no way something human could've killed it. The marks were too precise, and there was no other sign of them dying besides a neatly severed limb. I would've said werewolf, but werewolves are messy. You would've known in an instant if they did it."

"Huh?"

Scott rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "We... sorta-kinda might have a werewolf problem back in Beacon Hills. We're working on it, though."

"No, I just..." Bonnie really looked at them for the first time. "You guys really believe in all the supernatural stuff. You're not questioning the fact that werewolves might exist, though it sucks you have a problem, or that a vampire might've done it. You really think they exist?"

"They kind of have to." Lydia said, her tone softening with each word. "Werewolves and vampires and banshees and witches and all sorts of creatures explain a lot about our world. Though we can honestly say we've never seen a vampire, so we're not sure what they look like."

If only they knew. Bonnie sorta-kinda roomed with two of them right now. "That why you can't bring that up to any actual vampires?"

Stiles shot her an exasperated look. "Yes, why don't you call some up? I'm sure you have one on your speed-dial. In the meantime, we're going to dig up some evidence and see if we can't prevent more innocent people from dying."

Bonnie was half-tempted to tell this high school student that she had five (well, four point five, depending on how they counted Tyler that week), but why stoop to his level? He was clearly stressed out about saving lives in an unfamiliar environment. So she quietly pulled out her phone and texted both Elena and Caroline. Stefan was busy dealing with his personal trauma, and she really wasn't in the mood to deal with Damon's sass and his whining about babysitting three high school students from Werewolfsville. Oh god, she even thought like him sometimes!

Mere seconds later, Caroline had said, can't talk rn, helping Steffie with his PTSD! :) see you later?

Elena had just texted back, busy.

With friends like these, who really needed allies? Bonnie groaned, tucking her phone back in her pocket. "Okay, since my vampire roommates are out of commission, we're going to look through these and double-check with one of the biology professors. I think he's president of some Augustine society...?"

Stiles had just gawked at her, with his jaw nearly dropping to the floor. "Seriously? Okay, when I said that, I was completely joking, but you really know vampires?"

"Uh-huh. I live with two of them right now."

"And they don't, you know, want your blood every five minutes?" Stiles asked, mimicking a vampire biting into someone's neck.

"STILES!" Scott lightly elbowed his best friend. "You don't need to ask her these things."

Bonnie snorted softly. "He's allowed to ask. Most people don't even think the supernatural exists, so this is kind of refreshing."

"Tell me about it." Lydia pulled out a white envelope out of her purse. "You said the Augustine society, right? Like the one I'll join if I go here?" She cheerfully opened it, revealing the formal invitation tucked inside. "My aunt was a member, so she said I can drop by and see it for myself anytime." Well. Score one for Lydia.

Bonnie grinned wryly at her. "That's the one. Think you can get us the scoop on what's going on?"

"Of course." Lydia scoffed, almost rolling her eyes at Bonnie. "While Stiles and I mingle with the Augustine people, why don't you and Scott keep doing research? I'll translate stuff on my phone if you need it." Tugging Stiles out by the arm, she then marched out of the office as if their entire life depended on this mission.

Bonnie just started blankly at the space which Lydia and Stiles had just occupied. "Does that happen often?"

Scott had just whistled softly at her. "You have NO idea."

The good news: by the time Lydia and Stiles had returned from the Augustine meeting, their parents had declared that the kids should just meet them at the hotel by midnight. Their parents, unable to decide on a restaurant, had picked the Chinese/Southern place just outside campus. ("Are they sadists?" Scott had wondered upon getting the original text. Bonnie had to agree with him, and she hadn't even MET these people yet.)

The bad news: Bonnie and Scott hadn't made much headway into their mission. Bonnie knew immediately which volumes to check, thanks to her intimacy with the vampire community, but she couldn't pinpoint which ones would be most responsible. If Damon weren't a "reformed serial killer," she would've pinpointed the whole thing on him. He killed for the sake of killing (when he had a choice, the dirtbag)! Stefan hadn't gone Ripper in a while; and Caroline and Elena had mastered the art of feeding from a blood bag. None of her usual suspects were guilty of the crime.

The somewhat mediocre news: Bonnie finally learned just what the curriculum of "Occult Arts" entailed. It was a lot more boring than she had ever thought it would be.

"Ugh!" Scott groaned, closing yet another book. "We keep running into dead ends here. I thought your school was a total hub of knowledge for all things vampire."

He'd called his boss - one of the Deatons, apparently - only for his boss to know absolutely nothing about the situation. As Mr. Deaton had politely (but also loudly) reminded Scott, "I'm in California, remember? I don't hear too often about things that happen in Virginia. Don't forget to tell Sheila's granddaughter hi for me!" (At least he'd heard about Grams' death.)

Whitmore knew more about vampires than Bonnie had expected, certainly. Mystic Falls was no stranger to them either. "We deal with them a lot, but I guess not enough for them to be on these records." Not on the official ones, at least.

"I guess." Scott yawned, trying to hide it with his hand. The attempt was adorable but completely in vain. "I'm just worried, you know? If it was a werewolf, I'd know how to handle it. This? This isn't exactly familiar territory."

"It's not completely familiar territory for me either." Without her magic, Bonnie didn't know how to approach the situation. One kid had died - and according to the text she'd just received from her floormate, another one had also died under the same conditions. The people were piling up, and the school was working overtime to cover it up. First, Megan, now the kid in the closet, and now a kid on their floor? How many more would join them?

For the first time that night, Scott really looked at her, not as a tour guide, not as a cute girl, but simply as Bonnie Bennett. His entire expression softened. "You're right. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have just dumped it all on you like that."

Aw, and he even apologized for a situation that was mostly Stiles' and Lydia's faults. Bonnie couldn't quite hide the smile that stretched across the face, or the sheer gratitude she felt towards him. When his hand lightly grazed her cheek, she had to steel herself. She was completely devoted to Jeremy Gilbert. He loved her more than anyone else on the planet. If she wasn't so determined to keep him on the straight and narrow with his schoolwork, she would've told him the complete truth about the vampire killings.

"It's not your fault. I've witnessed this kind of killing spree before, but I know it's not that guy."

Scott tilted his head. "Because you staked that guy, right?"

"Y... yeah..." Bonnie nervously avoided his gaze. Damon deserved a choice, and so far he had made better ones than when she'd first met him, but he had mercilessly killed innocent people. "Exactly."

He wasn't buying her lie. He couldn't interrogate her, because the second he opened his mouth to ask, Stiles walked through the door with a box of donuts. "Guess what we got from the Augustine meeting?"

Scott stared at the assortment before him. "Donuts?"

"Even better! We know who killed those two students!"

Three, Bonnie added silently. Megan wasn't on their radar, but she was almost certain that whoever killed Megan had taught their wannabe killer the fine art of puncturing someone's neck.

"Well?" Scott demanded. "Aren't you going to tell us?"

"It's better if we show you," Stiles said, grabbing a donut and leaving the box in Sheila's office. "They extended membership to you guys too, once we made a huge fuss about the vamphobia in Beacon Hills."

He didn't have to tell them twice. Bonnie and Scott followed Stiles out of the office, though Bonnie remembered to lock the door on her way. "Vamphobia? Is that even the real word?"

"It's Sanguivoriphobia," Scott corrected. When Stiles and Bonnie just stared at him, Scott just glowered at them. "What? I actually picked up something from all those books you had me read."

By the time they reached the Whitmore House, Lydia was waiting on the steps for them. She took one whiff of the air before going, "You stopped by the donut place, didn't you?"

Stiles didn't deign to give her a proper response. Lydia sighed, turning to face Bonnie. "If he hadn't taken that detour, you might've come in time to see some of the other members. We weren't able to gather much, but since I was a legacy, they told me that they were keen on having me translate a few passages in Archaic Latin."

Scott and Stiles were completely unfazed by this revelation, so Bonnie had to assume it was just one of Lydia's (many) hidden talents. "So did you?"

Lydia shrugged. "Correctly? Probably not. They won't catch the difference for a couple of weeks - and by then, they'll also find my correct translation hidden underneath." She then handed two sheets of torn notebook paper. "The good news? They've got an in-house vamp that does the killings. The bad? He's kind of dead."

So if they couldn't pinpoint the vampire in question, who exactly was the one responsible? Bonnie folded her arms. "That can't be right."

"That's what I said." Lydia glumly stared back towards Whitmore House. "I think they're keeping stuff from me, because I'm _so_ not going here next year." She paused. "No offense."

"None taken." Bonnie blinked.

"She's a fan of the West Coast," Stiles said apologetically. "So the secret society's keeping secrets? That's... well, that's no secret."

The question was, now what? Should she give in and just text Jeremy? Respond to his cute doodle of a puppy with her current dilemma? She'd even ask Stefan for help if it meant that she could get a faster answer. They needed to stop this guy before any more humans were drained.

They needed to-

They needed to hold her steady as she braced herself for a world of pain. Bonnie didn't recognize the man standing before her, but she didn't need to, what with his shirt so profusely stained red. His eyes were haunted, almost sunken in, as he glumly observed her. Leaning forward, he walked straight through her.

Clutching her stomach, Bonnie wailed. Scott twitched - she must've been screeching into his eardrums - but continued to hold her for dear life. Even Stiles was surveying the scene, looking for any potential betrayals among the people in Whitmore House. When he came up short, he pressed his lips tightly.

"Um, should I get her some Advil?"

Lydia and Scott both glared at him. Thank god, because Bonnie really didn't have the time or the energy for this. The second she could feel him fully residing on the Other Side, she fell into Scott's arms. Again.

"Guess third time's the charm, huh?" He teased, pulling her closer to him.

Stiles just gave Scott a Look. "Third?"

"You were supposed to go get her some Advil, remember? I know they had some inside."

Of course, that's when good ol' Stefan Salvatore decided to show up, with his rolled up sleeves and blood-stained arms. He only had to take one look at the collapsed Bonnie, at Scott, Lydia, and Stiles staring at him before he held up his arms and went, "I don't know what just happened."

"He didn't kill them," Bonnie verified weakly, keeping one eye open as she looked at her friend from back home. "But it's nice to see him here. What happened?" She could guess: he was at Whitmore, looking for someone - Elena, probably - when he encountered wannabe vamp killer and staked him on the spot. It fit Stefan's behavior.

Not that she wasn't grateful, but she was kind of hoping she could've staked the guy herself.

Stefan took one look at her before he said lamely, "Hazing ritual. Did you know that if you want to join the society, you have to stake some tomatoes?"

"Ew." Lydia wrinkled her nose. "Count me out."

Scott stared. "You weren't even planning on going here..."

"I bet she has a lot of feelings anyways," Stiles teased lightly.

Stefan smiled fondly at her - and at her new friends - before he said, "I've still gotta look for Elena. Promise me that the three of you'll take good care of Bonnie?"

Scott, Stiles, and Lydia all exchanged glances before they nodded in unison. "Of course."

"Good." He then flashed his teeth at them, with the sharp canines that were impossible to mistake for human, "Because if you don't, I'm not afraid to show that other vampire what I showed you."

He disappeared in the blink of an eye - or maybe Bonnie wasn't paying attention, because Stiles' jaw dropped again and Lydia had just completely lost her calm, composed nature and Scott? Well, Scott was just rocking her like Stefan's threat had never happened.

"Wha-wha-was that your vampire roommate?" Stiles whistled. "He looked so normal!"

"And kind of hot." Lydia pulled out her phone. "I'm sure he's taken, though. Elena sounds like a lucky girl."

"Yeah." Bonnie didn't have the heart to tell Lydia otherwise. "Lucky indeed."

Lydia's phone was ringing, so she picked up, "Hello? Oh, hi, Mom. Yes, we're heading back to the hotel right now. Of course we had dinner! We stopped by a place on campus and now we're heading back... we met this girl, who's a freshman... she was giving us the grand tour... yes... of course!"

Scott set her down gently on her feet. "Can I walk you back to your dorm? I don't feel right letting you go back by yourself, especially after that-"

"I'm okay. I promise."

"_I_ wouldn't feel okay," Stiles cut in. "Plus, by the time Lydia's done reassuring our parents, we'll be back by my car. You know where Parking Lot B is?"

"Right by my dorm, actually."

"Really?" Scott grinned. "Sounds like we're walking you back, then."

Bonnie didn't have a chance to protest. Not that she wanted to. The entire way back, Stiles had grilled her about vampire life. Did they burn in the sunlight? ("Yes.") Are they really allergic to garlic? ("Unfortunately not.") Does holy water affect them? ("Nope. They're not actually in league with the Devil.") What about reflections? ("They've got pictures...")

"Okay! Stiles, that's really enough," Scott interrupted, once the barrage of questions had wandered from basic mythbusting to more complicated vampire societal questions. "Would you like it if Bonnie asked me about werewolf society?"

"You know about werewolf society?" Bonnie asked, casually observing as Scott slung his arm across her shoulders.

Stiles proudly answered, "He happens to be a big deal. He's an Alpha."

"So... you're a werewolf."

Scott smiled sheepishly. "Guilty as charged."

As if they could read her mind, Stiles piped up, "I'm just an innocent human, but Lydia's a banshee. You're not a vampire. That much we know. So what exactly are you?"

"I used to be a witch." Bonnie shrugged, trying to act as nonchalant about it as possible. "Right now, I guess you could call me an Anchor? I'm the thing that keeps the Other Side open."

"The afterlife for supernatural creatures, right?" Scott's smile quickly morphed into concern. "Man, that doesn't sound like fun at all. You sure you can handle that?"

"I have to." She must've said it more brusquely than she meant, because Scott actually looked hurt. Sure, they went through a lot in their first day together, but it wasn't like they were going to remain friends. Scott, Lydia, and Stiles had to return to Beacon Hills, and she needed to stay at Whitmore. She couldn't disappear to the other side of the country. Not when the Gilberts needed her.

Elena had the Salvatore brothers wrapped around her finger, and Jeremy was engrossed in his art, but dangit, they cared for her too! In their own special way!

Scott pressed his lips together. "I didn't... I'm sorry. I'm sure you're doing a really good job of it, Bonnie."

They were approaching the parking lot - and Bonnie's dorm - so Bonnie didn't want their night (possibly their last) to end on a sour note. She nodded, trying to smile for his sake. "Thanks. I didn't mean to sound so rude about it either."

"It's okay. I get it. People question my being an Alpha all the time."

Stiles gestured towards the only car in the visitors' section of the Lot. "Scott, we've gotta go."

"Right." Scott hastily pulled out his phone and handed it to her. "Bonnie, can I have your number? I'll find you on Facebook later, I just figure, we should keep in touch somehow. Between your vampire killings and my werewolf stuff, we might have a better network if we work together."

"Sure." She typed her number and email in, and then handed him her phone. "No pressure, okay?"

"Definitely." Scott hastily entered his phone number into her contacts before shoving it back into her hands. "It was nice meeting you, Bonnie. I hope everything works out over here. Especially with that society. Is it even legal?"

"I don't think so-"

Scott quickly - and instinctively - kissed her on the cheek.

Lydia and Stiles just exchanged smug smiles at each other before they ran over and hugged her. Bonnie watched them pile into Stiles' rental car ("Stiles! Can we at least grab fast food first?" Scott was whining, "I haven't eaten anything all day besides that donut.") and then drive onto the nearest word.

Once they'd left, Bonnie looked down at his phone number, then tucked her phone back into her pocket. McCall was a nice guy, but she just couldn't keep in touch with him. Not when her relationship with Jeremy was going so smoothly. Not when Scott had been there when Jeremy couldn't. Not when Scott just GOT everything about interracial relationships. Not when Scott was... not when Scott was being stupidly perfect. She had had the perfect guy right beside her the whole day and she hadn't even acknowledged him once. Maybe just this time, she should've taken the initiative.

A month later, Jeremy called off their relationship, which was really code for "I think you're in love with someone else, and it sure isn't me."

Without any hesitation, Bonnie punched in a number she had memorized by heart, and her voice almost faltered when she heard the all-too familiar voice on the other line. "Hey, Scott. It's been a while, hasn't it?"


End file.
